When She's Sad
by Aigerim Lehane
Summary: Right now, she's still and breathtaking and magnificent and all those things she usually is when she's sad, and yet, in this moment, she's deliriously happy. Because of you. (Just a drabble to battle the damn writer's block.)


_Trying to overcome the writer's block. And here I thought that was a myth, only to be hit hard with it. Ugh._

Drabble, inspired by akeolo's question for "jadeandtorimakeablog" on tumblr about whether or not Jade still likes it when Tori's sad. Thank you, akeolo!

_Also inspired by The National - "Terrible Love". Lyrics aren't really fitting, but I love the build-up in the song, and the music itself seemed suitable._

_Anyway, please review, let me know what you think!_

* * *

You like it when she's sad.

Her slender neck mesmerizes you with its curve as she lightly bows her head, letting chestnut locks shield her face from outside world. There is something preciously fragile in the way her teeth gnaw at the lower lip, her trying to hold back tears.

She's magnificent, that's what she is: her movements soft and flowing, the sorrowful serenity marking the lines on her face, making them delicate and tender.

And her eyes. Oh, those deep soulful pits, the dark amber swirling with all the emotions she has bottled up inside. Her gaze, filled with sadness, washes over you like a relief of a first summer rain, taking your breath away.

You did tell her she was pretty from certain angles, and it's true; but this crestfallen side of her is simply beautiful.

You don't know what it is, really; what has you so captivated each time Vega is heartbroken. It's not healthy, but then again, you _are_ a rather sick and twisted girl, and at first you don't even try to analyze this sudden admiration of her features twisted in sorrow.

You shrug your shoulders and reason that it's perfectly understandable to be glad when your nemesis is devastated.

A passable excuse, except for one major flaw. A loophole, if you will.

It doesn't make you _happy_ when she's sad. You may like it, but the roar of satisfaction isn't scratching at you from within your dark demented soul.

You like the way she looks, but you absolutely _hate_ the way she feels; and the wonder you have for this particular state of hers is purely of the physical variety.

Because that's when she's still. Those are the moments when she's not trying to live up to anyone's expectations of the perky, sunshine-radiating girl she's come to be known as. This is the only time she allows herself to be… well, herself.

She's Tori Vega, a girl who is sad, and she just wants someone to make it all better.

Because you're so afraid of losing this glimpse of the real her, you make it worse.

You quickly find that you're willing to do anything to keep this open vulnerability stay on her face a little longer, and that's when the cold realization settles in your stomach, fear gripping your heart in its clutch.

Somewhere along the line, the glimpses of Tori no one knows became more important to you than anything.

And as soon as it hits you, you're faced with another revelation – you have to let those glimpses go, because you cannot bear the thought of you being the reason for her sadness any longer.

It never occurred to you that there is another way to see underneath her façade. All you ever wanted was for her to fall apart, because only when she breaks will you be able to finally see her genuine self.

It's impossible to get the pearl if you don't break the oyster. Or so you thought.

Because right now, her slender neck mesmerizes you with its curve, chest falling up and down softly with her deep breaths, and there is something preciously fragile in the way she nestles her head on your shoulder as she sleeps.

You thought you had to break_ her_, but at the end of the day it was you who needed to shatter, only to be rebuilt by her hand.

Right now, she's still and breathtaking and magnificent and all those things she usually is when she's sad, and yet, in this moment, she's deliriously happy.

Because of you.

The thought sends shockwaves of feelings through your naked body, and something squeezes in your chest, making your head spin with painful sweetness.

You watch her as she dreams of you (and you just know that's what she sees in her dreams), and suddenly you notice one thing completely different from when she's sad.

The inner glow she has is more radiant than the soft morning rays of sun, and she lights up the whole room even as she slumbers.

And as she stirs slightly, a sleepy smile adorning her face and warm fingers tangling in your hair, the glow expands, filling up your heart and cementing her inside it for a long time. And while the thought frightens you, you still can't help but hope that 'a long time' turns out to be 'forever'.

So yeah. Scratch that.

You may like it when she's sad, but you _love_ it when she's happy _with you._


End file.
